A Spark in the Void
by TheJester33
Summary: Fate has a strange way of bringing together even the most contrasting of people. Cahir is a ruthless Imperial assassin who falls under the care of Isabel, a Breton priestess and healer. Though a growing animosity forms between them, their lives are both formed by circumstance and they begin to understand that there is more to a being then one can possibly imagine.


The wind whipped across his skin like daggers but it wasn't like he had a choice. He went wherever his work took him, it just happened that he had been taken to the far North of the Pale. He was a ways outside of Dawnstar but he still had to be careful, a hunter and stray townsperson could disrupt even the most cautious of planners. He shivered and pulled the furs closer, he thought he had planned well enough, but the weather had taken a turn.

"Not all is so dour though, the weather dampers most visibility to only a few paces ahead, this is all well and good for accomplishing my mission, but it doesn't numb the wind." He whispered. His voice was hoarse and lips dried, it wouldn't be long until he could return to a warm tavern and sleep through the day. If he was lucky, perhaps he could find someone to warm a bed with him, but one cannot be too picky in this land. He continued to wait, biding his time, it would be around midday when his target would round the hill. Every Fredas him and his small caravan, consisting of two to three armed guards, would travel from Morthal to Dawnstar, delivering a small assortment of goods to be sold to the villagers of Dawnstar. It wasn't the goods he seeked, no those were petty trinkets and worthless supplies, he was after the merchant. It was not his business to know why his client wanted this man taken care of, he was paid and told what to do, that didn't mean he couldn't come up with his own ideas and this wasn't difficult to piece together. The merchant was a sleazy Breton by the name of Cadius, he was at one time under the employment of Freya Bloodstone, she controlled a majority of shipments and trading within the Pale. Cadius had his own ambitions, and had respectfully resigned from Freya, under the condition that he move his business elsewhere, if he wanted any trading to occur within the Pale, he would give Freya a cut of whatever he earned. He was doing quite well in Morthal and expanding at a steady rate, but he had a loyal following in Dawnstar. He had figured that Freya being occupied with her own expansion, wouldn't notice some small dealings in Dawnstar, but that's where he was wrong. Freya had eyes and ears all over, she was no fool, and that's where he came in. Though he had been given instructions to make an example of him, simply killing him and leaving his body in the wilderness would lead most to believe it was a simple bandit attack, but he was no simple barbarian.

He shifted around to find a more comfortable footing but heard a distant murmur. He looked up and faintly through the storm he could see the sun just about directly on top of them. He felt once over his equipment, Orcish dagger in his boots, a steel sword attached to his hip, and his satchel of vials on his tailbone. He pulled the Imperial bow from over his shoulders and notched an arrow, he waited until he could see the faintest outline of their party. As they came closer he began to formulate his plan. There were two guards in the front, it wouldn't make sense for Cadius to walk. Following closely behind was a horse and carriage, two sitting up front and the back carried the supplies. Cadius was born into a moderately wealthy family, just rich enough to escape manual labor, he wouldn't have any experience with horses and his sources said that Cadius has never taken an interest in riding. That eliminates him from being the driver, he is the man to the left, only a wounding shot for now, the pain comes later. The driver goes first, he he kills the lead guards first then he can rush off with the carriage. He waits a couple seconds more before pulling the arrow back, he adjusts for the wind and aims for the general upper body of the driver. He lets the arrow loose and watches as it flies across the barren snow and makes contact with the driver. A wailing pierces the air, the arrow must have clipped him or hit a non-vital organ. He quickly notches another arrow and aims towards Cadius, he aims lower lets loose another arrow. Cadius has gotten up to run but not fast enough, the arrow pierces his calf and forces him tumbling off the carriage. The lead guards have realized what is happening and slowly back up towards the wagon, careful to watch both sides but they're at a disadvantage, they can't watch the back of the wagon without splitting up or taking their eyes off the hills. He grabs a nearby rock and hurls it at the carriage, one guard sees the rock and begins walking him. The rock hits the driver, causing a loud moan, the other quickly looks at the injured driver and makes his way towards him, careful to be aware. He has split them up for now, it will work to his advantage, they're both wearing fur layered iron armor, which means his arrows can't pierce the chest, he would have to get up close and personal. He would have to be careful though, his thick leather armor is reinforced with a darkened elven armor set to keep his agility, but at the cost of having weak spots in between the eleven reinforcement. A well placed strike could be the end of him.

He crouched down into the snow, placing his bow upon his back and drawing his blade, ready to spring up when the guard came into view. The guard rounded the hill and he lept up, slashing hard. The blade dented the iron armor and sent the man stumbling backwards. Caught unaware, the guard was unprepared for a second strike, this one slashing his skin in between his shoulder plates. The man grabbed the wound and screamed in pain as the frost stung his wound, the pain was unimaginable. The guard had trouble moving his right arm as another swing came across his neck, he slumped to the ground, blood gurgling out of the slit. His killer watched as the blood soaked the snow, the crisp white sheet turning a dark crimson as the blood continued to pour out. The man looked towards the carriage and saw the final guard, a brute of a man wielding a heavy steel battle-axe. The brute gave him a vicious grin, there was no sadness or grief in his eyes, instead the man had been filled with a blood lust, a chance for some combat. He walked down the slope until they were on even ground, slowly stepping closer to the brute.

"You have done well so far, but that is only because you had the advantage of surprise, now in real combat, you will see how a true Nord is always victorious." The brute yelled, straining his voice across the wind. The man said nothing, only pacing around the carriage. The brute had the obvious advantage of strength, his armor would do little to protect him from the axe and his only head cover as a leather hood lined with bear fur.

"The man might be quick, he might be slow, I need to see how he is, if I'm lucky I can use and size and speed against him," the man thought to himself. He took a few steps toward the hulking man, prepared to dash quickly back for when the man swung. The brute brought his axe back and swung, the man rolled back and evaluated.

"His wind up is slow and heavy, the weather isn't helping, but the swing itself is quick but that force means it take longer to set up another swing.", the man formulated a plan in his head. He got close, tempting the brute to swing again but the brute was no fool to be taken advantage of. He ripped off his helmet and tossed it at the man. While the man was focused on the helmet, the brute swung his axe,the few seconds that the man was occupied with the helmet were seconds that he suffered for. He backstepped but the axe grazed his abdomen, cutting through the leather like butter. The man hissed as the wound became exposed to the wind, and looked up right as the brute was preparing another strike. He rolled out of the way towards the wagon as the brute brought his axe down upon the ground. The man scrambled towards the brute, swinging his sword towards his ankles. The sword cut the thin leather protecting the ankle and the man felt the sword pass through flesh. The brute roared and swung his axe once more, the man ducked and the axe became imbedded in the wood of the carriage. Using this momentary delay, the man swung his blade at the opening in the brute's armor for the joint. He got a solid hit as he felt his blade strike bone and become lodged in the joint. The brute roared as the man stood up, his blade still lodged within the joint, the man brought his foot up and stomped down as hard as he could on the hilt of his blade. The sword snapped up, breaking the man's leg joint and severing the tendons. Blood pooled out from the gaping wound and the hulking beast of a man fell to the ground, through his pained breaths and howling wind, you could faintly hear his weeping as he grasped his leg. The man pulled the dagger from his boot and walked towards the poor soul. Each step crunching beneath him, each step the brute knew until his life was taken. The man stepped behind the weeping brute, he grabbed a fistful of the brute's grimey bond hair, yanking it upward. He waited a few seconds as the wind died down but said nothing, he brought the dagger across his throat before roughly tossing the dying man to the ground.

He inhaled a deep breath of the air before looking down at his own wound. The blood had seemed to stop, for now that will do, he still had a contract to complete. He stepped over the brute's corpse and walked around the wagon. He checked inside the wagon to confirm the driver was dead, a single arrow protruding from his right shoulder and a slash across his throat.

"The brute did that, thought he could take whoever survived the first fight and then take all the supplies for himself, all I hope is he left Caduis alive." He saw the blood trail leading from the edge of the carriage and followed it. It didn't go far, only over the first snow drift to which he found a shivering and bleeding Cadius, but he was still alive, which is all he needed.

He walked around Cadius, and spoke, "Freya truly wishes that you hadn't betrayed her, she saw a bright future for you, but reed never gets you anywhere, only patience does. You will not enjoy what is going to happen next, nor will I, but it's not really my choice now. Freya has eyes everywhere as you can tell, and if I don't do the job the way she wants, well, may the gods have mercy." Cadius said nothing, no energy to speak, only following the man's movements. "It has been some time since I've talked to another being, too busy preparing this you see, so let me introduce myself, I am Cahir Valerius, a very Imperial name I know. Soon this will be behind us both." Cahir stopped in front of Cadius, he looked down at his dagger before wiping it on the side of his boots. The wind picked up, sending snow swirling into the air, the trees rustled in the distance, and an elk looked on from the horizon.

* * *

"Damn the cold, and damn this town, I can't get any sleep with all the nightmares and it's too cold to enjoy anything. Why did I ever come here," The guard complained as he did his routine patrol around Dawnstar. The sun was beginning to set, giving the sea a gorgeous orange hue as the light reflected across the rippling waves. His boots crunching in the snow, he was about to call in his patrol before he saw a horse riding in from the distance.

"Ugh, another traveler, I can't fathom why they would ever visit this gods forsaken village. Unless it's Cadius and his wares, he hadn't stopped by yet and he would have normally been here by now." The guard stopped at the entrance of the village, waiting for the mysterious traveler, but as the horse galloped closer, it was no ordinary traveler.

"By the nine, I think I'm going to be sick." The horse was carrying a man, stripped of all his clothes, and he seemed to be bound to the horse, only staying upright because of the rope. The horse galloped into the middle of the city before another guard calmed the horse and cut the rope binding. The man slumped off the horse and spread upon the ground. A man vomited and a woman ushered her child inside. The guard walked over to the body, on the man's chest was carved " **NO HANDS NO TRADE".** It was then that the guard noticed that the man had stumps at the wrist. They turned the body over to see " **FREYA BLOODSTONE"** carved into his back. Stripped of his dignity and used as an example, Freya controls the trade of the Pale.

"By Kynereth, well Freya got her message across alright…." the guard captain murmured, "Okay everyone, back up, we're going to clean this up. Nothing else to see here, head on home." The guard backed up and walked away.

"Well," he thought, "Freya's plan had obviously worked, she managed to find someone soulless enough to do what she wanted. Now all I have to do is write to her about the success."


End file.
